Comment: ‘Free Fudge With Every Issue!’ – Comic-al Brexit Leaves Bad Taste

There was a soft ‘clump’ as the lid closed on the ornate wooden coffin. Word spread, and the news quickly took hold. Many tears were tweeted as the finality of it all was confirmed: Marvel Comics legend Stan Lee was now at rest, the ink slowly drying on his own story.

A lifetime of art imprinted in a heavenly legacy. Where else could one find characters more colourful?

Meanwhile, the long-running Brexit comic-strip saga has just been renewed for a fresh print run. But, unlike cameo-seeking Lee, the creator of this epic miasma has disappeared like a phantom in the night.

Captain Cameron: a great villain? Or an anti-hero? How about, The Invisible Man?

Yes, Cameron is certainly no spotlight-seeker like Old Tony B; although, unlike Blair, he did actually manage to procure some infamous WMDs. His Words of Mass Destruction on that mystical June morning set the course for the kind of story-boarding adventure that political cartoonists had always dreamed of.

The tale goes that, cast adrift, the newly commissioned Mayflower also sailed into choppy seas. But on dry land and huddled together in a chilled November air, Britain and its Brexit Bluebloods were doomed to become The Walking Dead.

Who mourned a Britain anchored to this bureaucratic purgatory? Least of all Ireland, who roared out Her first name: “Great!”, as Freedom was zapped! before a page was turned. The (Dare)devil is in the detail, of course, and we can see the Faustian handshake already.

At a convention in Belgium once, rumours abounded about a rare edition of Thor…called “Doctor Foster Saves The Queen!” The collector-in-chief of all this chaos is Jacob Rees-Mogg and his traitorous coup, who’ve turned a good putsch into the kind of farce sold by Lionel Hutz! It’s not funny, but the government’s chaos is a Killing Joke, nonetheless.


God help us, Spider Man. You always loved your Aunt May.

At Church in Fantasy Island on Sunday morning, The Very Reverend S. Nolan himself stood at the lectern and prayed for all the lost souls: Johnson & Johnson, Davis & Raab – otherwise known as the eX-Men. Bursting into homily, he decried the visceral feeding frenzy that’s broken out at the sight (at last!) of flesh on the Bones of Brexit:

‘A starting pistol’s been fired – don’t sleep or you’ll miss
The dulcet tones of Emily Maitlis.
Corbyn’s cartel has gone all silent,
To watch, perhaps, the Tory violence.
The Free State got quite the scare, having

Met the henchman, they call Allis-ter!
The public calls for unity, a desire to be strong,
As the DUP stands together in song.
This draft tonne of papers would overwhelm Popeye…
But… as Frank Mitchell would say, “It’s bub-bye!”‘

And now back to our own Guardian of the Galaxy, Paul Clark, with the apocalypse.

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